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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24353161">The Magic School Bus's Last Ride</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/seriousxue/pseuds/seriousxue'>seriousxue</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Magic School Bus</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Temporary Amnesia, dark!AU, pretend this is being directed by david fincher</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-05-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 09:01:17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,893</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24353161</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/seriousxue/pseuds/seriousxue</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Seventeen years after leaving elementary school, Carlos Ramon begins to feel darkness settle upon him. He doesn't know what it is but it does have something to do with the weird school bus that's been haunting him and the group of strangers that claim to be his fifth-grade classmates.<br/>If Carlos can solve the mystery of the bus, his class, and reconcile with the forgotten memories of his past maybe he can figure out how to move on.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Dorothy Ann/Carlos Ramon, Tim Jamal/Phoebe Terese</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>12</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>The Magic School Bus's Last Ride</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>if this goes well I will post a list of people I imagine while writing these characters (aka my fancast of adult MSB kids)</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Carlos Ramon first realized something was wrong three weeks before his high school ten-year reunion. It wasn’t obvious, something he initially brushed off. It barely registered as weird to him on that warm May afternoon. </p><p>He was headed back to Walkersville Elementary School, to retrieve some papers from the classroom where he is a Special Education teacher.  He parked his bike, not bothering to chain it up. He was preoccupied, thinking about what kind of summer activities he could introduce to his class. If he hadn’t dropped his phone, he wouldn’t have even noticed anything. </p><p>As he bent down to pick it up a leaf blew by. At first, he paused because it was a large, orange maple leaf, the kind that filled the streets in the early autumnal season. He stared at it, thinking how odd it was that a leaf was dying like that in mid-May. The second thing that caught his attention was the breeze that had carried the leaf past him. He could feel it on his back, a welcome reprieve from the unforgiving sun. Then another leaf blew past in front of him, the opposite direction of the breeze. </p><p>He grabbed one of the leaves, holding it up into the air. It blew with the wind, towards the school. Figuring he must have been imagining things, he let it go. The leaf hovered in the air for a moment before being whipped away, against the wind and away from the school. </p><p>Carlos watched a few more leaves flit by but after a moment the breeze subsided, and he went along with his errand. Even at dinner that night and late into the next day, the leaves occupied a large portion of his mind. </p><p>“Hey Steve!” He called out to one of the Science teachers at the school, Steve Wither, a spry man in his early 50’s who continued to wear sneakers and outdated tee shirts in an attempt to look young and “relate to the kids.” Today it was a Pearl Jam shirt, tucked into his professional slacks with a vest (unbuttoned as to not obstruct the logo).</p><p>“What’s up Ramon?” Steve turned on his heel to face Carlos, stepping to the side of the busy school hallway to avoid the stampede of children headed to recess. </p><p>“I have kind of a weird question, yesterday I saw some leaves blowing in the breeze only I could have sworn the breeze was blowing the other way.” It sounded crazy when he said it out loud, but at the same time acknowledging the strangeness made Carlos believe it even more, “I’m a little rusty on my physics do you know of any way that might happen?” </p><p>“Sure, the rules of nature are weird. Temperatures and thermal dynamics screw with the natural order all the time.” Steve seemed less than impressed, “are you sure you felt the wind, right? There might have been a cross breeze catching some of the leaves.” He shrugged, “you ok Ramon?” </p><p>“Yeah, no your right. I must have seen wrong.” Carlos smiled, </p><p>“If only you could shrink down and ride the breeze to find out eh buddy.” Steve laughed, clapping Carlos’s shoulder before his attention was drawn by two children running down the hall. </p><p>Carlos told himself it must have just been his imagination playing tricks, pushing the leaves out of his head. </p><p>The second strange event happened a few days later. Carlos was in his house, his brother and nephew he lived with sound asleep. He had fallen asleep while reading but was awaken by a car horn outside. It was short, a little ‘beep beep’. But what caused Carlos to go peer out the window was different; it was an urge he couldn’t really explain.</p><p>The street was empty, the single streetlight flickered and went out, plunging the neighborhood into near darkness. Then at the end of the block a bus drove slowly down the street. It was a small school bus, but the yellow was faded and rusty. The only light on the street came from the yellow headlights. The bus couldn’t have been driving more than five miles per hour, and some unseen force caused Carlos to run outside in the night to get a better look.  </p><p>He stood, frozen in place on the sidewalk as the bus drove past. The air outside was warm but Carlos suddenly felt like he was about to freeze, a chill ran down his spine and he felt his heart stop as he looked into the dingy bus and saw it was moving on its own. He could see the wheel inside turning, keeping the bus steady, but there was no driver. As far as he could see the bus was completely empty. </p><p>Carlos shook his head, blinking a few times, frozen in place until the bus turned the corner at the end of his street. </p><p>He must have been imagining things, like the leaves. Like the leaves. Not real, his mind playing tricks. He went around the house, making sure all the windows and doors were locked, all the blinds pulled. Everyone was where they were supposed to be. He wasn’t sure what he was trying to protect them from, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that something was coming. </p><p>The days following the bus sighting went by in a blur, Carlos felt like he was walking through sludge, or like in a fever dream. He would feel feverish but only for a few minutes at a time, sometimes he would get so lightheaded his vision went grey and he had to do everything in his power to stay awake and keep himself from fainting. </p><p>His illness came to a head when after dinner one night he suddenly felt nauseous. His nephew, five-year-old Luke, was rattling on about the school play to his father, Mikey. Carlos was trying to pay attention but suddenly a wave of nausea swept over him, causing him to gasp suddenly and grip his fork and knife as tightly as possible. Focus on the cold metal, he told himself, focus on looking at the plate in front of you. Focus on the sound of Luke’s voice. </p><p>It didn’t work and seconds later Carlos was standing up and running to the toilet, his chair fell to the ground, but he didn’t notice, he barely made it to the toilet before violently vomiting up what seemed like everything he had ever eaten. </p><p>He couldn’t stop, his stomach kept convulsing and he kept heaving until nothing came up except stomach bile that burned his throat. He finally stopped, resting his cheek on the cold porcelain toilet seat, breathing faintly. He felt unable to move, unable to muster the strength to even flush the toilet and flush away the purged remains of his insides. </p><p>He barely registered his brother's concerned voice, Mikey trying to lean over and help his brother up but not quite reaching out of his wheelchair. “Carlos, Carlos, dude are you okay? I’m going to call the doctor- “he reached out and tried to stop his brother from wheeling away but was too weak to even touch the wheel of his chair, much less stop it from moving. </p><p>Carlos remained sprawled out on his bathroom floor for what felt like days but could have been hours or even moments before someone was picking him up and laying him down, he heard voices and felt people touching him. Someone wiped his face with a wet towel, someone put a blanket on him. He was barely aware as he was loaded onto a stretcher and carried out of his house. He felt himself blacking out again and tried to fight it but this time he wasn’t strong enough. </p><p>The last thing he saw before drifting off was a bus, parked up the street. Yellow and rusted, the same ghostly bus he had seen days before.</p><p>The final incident happened the morning of the Reunion, it was an uncharacteristically warm Saturday afternoon, Carlos picked up his suit from the dry cleaners and was walking home when he felt it again, that same cutting breeze from before, the same breeze he had felt with the leaves. He reacted quickly, holding up the receipt from the dry cleaner in the air and watching it flow in the direction of the setting sun, he faced the breeze and looked around on the verge of panic. It was suddenly freezing, he could feel the warmth of the sun, but it felt far away like he was sinking into a cold abyss. Then a swirl of leaves blew past him, some getting caught in his hair as they flew in clear defiance of nature. </p><p>He watched the leaves vanish around the corner and followed them, his feet moving almost of their own free will. Carlos sure as hell wasn’t controlling them. He turned the corner and was face to face with the bus yard for Walkersville School District. Since it was Saturday the parking lot was almost full, bar a few busses no doubt being used for field trips. Carlos continued to follow the leaves past rows upon rows of yellow busses, far more than he remembered there being until they came to rest on a pile of crisp brown leaves. </p><p>A cloud rolled in front of the sun, blocking out the light and eliminating any residual warmth. Carlos shivered and rubbed his hands together for warmth, every breath resulting in a puff of cold air.<br/>
The pile of leaves was right in front of a bus, The Bus. Carlos stopped dead in his tracks. His breathing increased and although every single bone in his body told him to run away, his feet kept going one in front of the other in front of the other until he was at the door of the bus, his hands prying it open while Carlos tried and failed to regain control of his limbs to run away. </p><p>The doors hadn’t been opened for years, they were rusted shut and it took almost all of Carlos’s strength to pry the metal open. </p><p>He slowly stepped up into the bus, not sure what he was looking for but hoping he wouldn’t find it. The inside looked worse than the outside, the fabric of the seats was peeling, old rotten stuffing and springs stuck out on all the seats. The floor was dusty, faded. The windows rusted shut and covered with a thick layer of dirt. Spider webs inhabited the corners. The control board completely obscured by a thick layer of gray dust. </p><p>Carlos had been terrified, scared to the point of tears but as soon as he stepped into the bus something felt right, familiar. He wasn’t scared anymore. He felt as though he was somewhere sacred. Like if he disturbed the dust, he would disturb all the memories with it. </p><p>He walked up and down the bus slowly, taking in all the seats. He felt like there was a memory here, something he shouldn’t have forgotten. He made his way to the driver seat and sat down gently on the old chair. He grabbed the wheel and looked around the dashboard, running his hands on the dusty surfaces. One of the dials was not covered in dust and although he still doesn’t know why, Carlos turned the dial. </p><p>Nothing happened, maybe the bus had to be turned on for it to work. He stood up, about to leave when something caught his eye in the corner. A piece of paper sticking out from under one of the seats, it looked fresh as if it had just been dropped. </p><p>He grabbed it and sat back down to read the hastily written note, </p><p>“I’m in over my head, I never dreamed they would come for me. The producers are gone, Liz is gone, the children--- dear god I can only pray the children are safe and stay as far away from this as possible. If anyone finds this note please forget about me, forget about the bus. Destroy the bus if you can. Please, I can’t atone for my sins, but I can stop others from getting hurt.<br/>
Thank you, kind stranger,<br/>
VF” </p><p>Carlos felt his hands shaking, a tear dropped onto the page even though he didn’t remember when he started crying. Some memory felt so close, he felt a sadness he hadn’t felt before. He was shivering, he wasn’t sure if it was from the cold or from some unknown fear.</p><p>He stuffed the note in his pocket and ran out of the bus, out of the bus yard, all the way home where he could turn on the shower to near boiling and let the scalding water flush the dust from The Bus down the drain.<br/>
That night was Carlos’s ten-year high school reunion. He put the memories of the bus and the note aside to get ready. He couldn’t say he was excited to go, but Mikey had convinced him that you don’t need a date to go to a reunion, adding with a wink that maybe something magical could happen. </p><p>Given the month Carlos has had, he found himself praying nothing magical happened at all, and for the first half of the reunion he got his wish. </p><p>The party was fun, Carlos found that with every drink he had and every old friend he reunited with he was more relaxed, laughing and smiling more. He felt like his old self, cracking jokes and relishing in the attention of his old peers. </p><p>He stopped in the bathroom before returning to the party to make sure there was nothing in his teeth and that his hair stayed slicked back. When pushing a strand of hair back into place Carlos locked eyes with his reflection and it was as if all the air had been sucked out of the room. </p><p>The man staring back at him wasn’t what Carlos remembered looking like, even hours ago before he left for the party. The man in the mirror was gaunt and thin, his clothes hanging off of him like a child wearing his father’s suit. His eyes were hollow and tired, he couldn’t look away. He found himself lost in his own eyes, falling deeper and deeper into an abyss he had never known before, he felt like the longer he looked the longer it would take to find his way out. His breathing became rapid and shallow, he began to shiver despite not being cold. </p><p>As Carlos stared at himself in the mirror, he remembered the old adage: the eyes are windows to the soul. He stared and stared and no matter how deep in his own eyes he looked the blinds remained shut and he couldn’t tell what his soul was like or if it even exists. </p><p>After minutes, or maybe even hours, the door snapped open shocking Carlos out of the staring contest with himself. A stranger stumbled in, looking a little more than drunk, and began relieving himself. Carlos shook his head, he just needed another drink, and left the bathroom to return to the party. </p><p>The party, however, was over. The harsh lights of the gymnasium showing only a few people stacking chairs or rolling large circular tables. Two people stood in the corner sorting trash into different colored bags. Carlos walked over to them, </p><p>“Hey! Um, sorry what happened?” He asked. The two people looked up and smiled. </p><p>“Carlos! I was wondering if you were going to say hi!” The girl said, she seemed small in stature but had a graceful way of moving. Carlos focused on her wavy hair, trying to determine if it was brown or red. </p><p>“Um, sorry do I know you?” He asked, glancing between the two people in front of him. </p><p>“Oh Carlos, still the same jokester I see.” The man said, he was tall and looked strong. </p><p>“No I’m serious.” Carlos took a step back, studying these strangers that somehow knew his name. </p><p>“Carlos do you really not remember us?” The girl took a step forward and suddenly Carlos felt very dizzy like he was going to faint again. He stumbled back into one of the few remaining fold up chairs still in the gymnasium. </p><p>“Whoa there,” the man dropped the bag he was holding and stepped forward, “It’s us, Tim and Phoebe. We have been in class together since fifth grade.” Tim leaned down to look closer at Carlos’s face. His face turned to concern quickly. “Hey man, are you okay?” </p><p>Carlos tried to respond but his tongue felt heavy, his whole body felt heavy. He couldn’t muster the energy to lift a finger let alone answer Tim’s question. He was frozen, paralyzed. </p><p>Someone on the other side of the room dropped a table and the loud crash snapped Carlos out of his stupor, he found himself sitting on a metal chair with two strangers peering at him in concern. </p><p>“What happened? Who are you?” He asked again, peering at their faces. They exchanged glances. </p><p>“I’m going to call a doctor” The man said, standing up. </p><p>“Wait no! No don’t do that I’m fine.” Carlos said. </p><p>“Carlos we just told you who we are, Tim and Phoebe,” Phoebe said gently, kneeling down and putting a hand on Carlos’s knee. </p><p>“Oh of course,” Carlos said, despite having no memory of the introduction. He wasn’t really sure where he was, but he knew he should know. “Sorry I’m a little confused.” </p><p>“That’s okay.” Phoebe said, “Can you stand? Tim and I are going to take you to see a doctor.” Phoebe said, putting Carlos’s arm around her shoulder and helping him stand up. He didn’t want to go to a hospital, but he couldn’t remember why. </p><p>Tim put his arm around Carlos’s other side and began helping him to the parking lot. The helped Carlos lay down in the back seat of the car before everything started feeling like soup and Carlos’s eyelids began to weigh too much to keep open, he tried with what little strength he had to stay awake but ultimately the darkness was too powerful and he was to week, Carlos once again fell unconscious. </p><p>Carlos was outside his body, he saw himself standing outside on a street corner, parked in front of him was The Bus. He watched himself step inside the cursed vehicle, shouting to stop himself. </p><p>Once inside the doors closed, and Carlos saw the bus stretch and squeeze, getting longer and shorter and taller and shorter and wider and thinner and finally spinning around until it was just a blur that vanished into the cold night. Carlos screamed, trying to call himself and the bus back but it was no use. They were gone. </p><p>Carlos sat up, sweating. He was in a bed, covered in sweat. His clothes were gone. Stood up slowly, only wearing his underwear. His head was pounding, and his stomach ached as if he had been punched. He sat up and pulled the heavy duvet off. Sun flitted in through a window but there was no other light upstairs. </p><p>He stood up and noticed some clothes had been laid out on the bed. After getting dressed he cautiously made his way down the hall and toward the sound of voices from another room. </p><p>Downstairs he saw a group of people sitting in a living room, chatting quietly as if talking in secrets. The first person to notice him was a girl with red hair. Or maybe it was brown. She stood up and rushed over to him. </p><p>“Carlos! You’re awake. How are you feeling? Here, let me get you some toast. Have a seat.” She rushed him to a soft armchair and then disappeared into another room. Carlos tried not to look at the audience staring at him with wide eyes and bated breath. </p><p>“Hey man what the hell happened to you?” One of them asked, she was short but looked powerful with blunt black bangs and long hair tied in a ponytail. </p><p>“Um, I don’t know.” He said cautiously, “who are all of you? Where am I?” </p><p>“Do you not know who we are?” One of the guys asked he was clean cut with short brown hair and a soft, kind voice. </p><p>“Sorry.” Carlos stared at all of the people in the room, wishing one of them could give him a hint as to why he couldn’t seem to remember them. He felt like he should remember, like he did remember but the memories were slipping away, the last string of recollection slipping through his fingers. He felt guilty and sad, like he had lost someone significant, but he didn’t know who or how they were lost. </p><p>“Not even a little bit?” The kind voiced man asked again. Carlos shook his head. </p><p>“I’m sorry but I’ve never seen any of you before in my life.” The man who had been sitting next to Phoebe leaned forward, he was tall with thick black hair cut close to his head. </p><p>“Not even me?” He asked sincerely. Carlos stared at him, studying the man before him. Hoping that the key to unlocking what was happening was somewhere in his nose or eyes, in the teal sweatshirt he wore or the way one of his shoelaces was longer than the other. Nothing helped however, and Carlos continued to feel more lost by the second, “Carlos we met last night. I’m Tim, Phoebe and I were cleaning up after the reunion when you came up and passed out.” </p><p>As if on cue, Phoebe returned with toast and tea, watching intently as Carlos ate every last crumb. While he ate, the rest of the group introduced themselves one by one. The first girl who had talked to him was Wanda. </p><p>Then there was another girl, she was tall, and her natural hair was tied in a bun on top of her head; she was called Keesha. Carlos did what he did with new students, assigning a physical attribute to everyone and connecting that to their name so he wouldn’t forget again. </p><p>D.A.’s had a short pixie cut; her golden hair almost entirely hidden by a purple beanie. Then there was Ralphie, the soft-spoken man from before, who Carlos would remember by his piercing eyebrows that quietly studied him the entire time he ate. Finally, there was Arnold who Carlos hadn’t even noticed because he sat in the corner so quietly. He had circular glasses and a mop of strawberry blonde hair. </p><p>“It’s really nice to meet all of you but how do you all know who I am? And what are you all doing here? And where is here?” </p><p>“This is my dad’s house.” Phoebe said, “We all went to school together for years. I called everyone over when you passed out in Tim’s car.” </p><p>“Okay but why?” Carlos tried to put all of them in the context of school, hoping it would help him remember, he was unsuccessful. </p><p>“Carlos can I ask you a couple of questions?” Ralphie leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees and staring at Carlos even more intently than before. </p><p>“Sure?” </p><p>“When did the amnesia begin to happen?” </p><p>“What kind of dumbass question is that?” Wanda asked, “how the hell is he supposed to remember when his amnesia began to set in? It's amnesia.” </p><p>“Please, Wanda,” Ralphie took a deep breath, visibly annoyed, “I know what I’m doing.” </p><p>“Sorry I didn’t realize you had your Ph.D. in neuroscience,” Wanda said rolling her eyes. </p><p>“Actually, it’s in pediatric surgery but I guess you’re right Doctor Li since you seem to be an expert in amnesia,”  Ralphie said sarcastically. </p><p>“Guys come on,” Keesha said, “can we let Carlos talk? I’m not even sure why Phoebes called me so urgently.” </p><p>“I’m sorry I don’t really know what’s going on either. I think I’m fine and I should just go home, I’m sure my brother is worried.” Carlos started to stand up but Phoebe gently pushed him back into the chair.</p><p>“Listen, guys, I’ll tell you all what I know, and then we can start putting the pieces together from there.” Tim stood up, trying to command control of the room. “Phoebe and I were sorting trash after the party when Carlos came up looking like he just dug himself out of his own coffin after being resurrected for the zombie apocalypse. He had no idea who we were. We introduced ourselves then he collapsed and suddenly couldn’t remember being introduced seconds before.” </p><p>“That’s odd,” D.A. said, pulling out an iPad, Tim glanced at her but kept going. </p><p>“We were going to take him to the hospital, he kept muttering nonsense about a bus and a note. Then this fell out of his pocket,” Tim presented the note Carlos had found in the bus like he was showing evidence to a jury, “a note from one VF.” </p><p>“VF as in…Valarie Frizzle?” Ralphie asked Tim to hand him the note. </p><p>“I’m sorry Carlos but you can’t remember us, but you also forgot Phoebe and Tim moments after being introduced?” D.A. asked, “according to some research I did a while back that’s not how amnesia works.” </p><p>“What do you mean?” Carlos asked.</p><p>“There are two main types of amnesia, retrograde and anterograde. Anterograde is where you don’t have short term memory and retrograde is when you lose pre-existing memories, I don’t know how common it is for someone to develop both simultaneously.” </p><p>“That’s not the weirdest part, look at this.” Ralphie passed around the note, “It seems like Ms. Frizzle is in some kind of trouble. Where did you get this Carlos?” </p><p>“I um, I found it in an old school bus. I don’t know why it was in my pocket it’s probably meaningless. I just forgot to throw it away.” </p><p>“Carlos, this is really scary, do you not remember anything?” Phoebe asked gently, handing the note back to him. Carlos shook his head, “I’m sorry guys I’m sure you were all great friends I just… I can’t remember anything.” </p><p>“Well we have to help her.” Keesha said, “We have to save Ms. Frizzle and maybe we can figure out what’s going on with Carlos.” </p><p>“You aren’t going to be able to help him,” Arnold said, speaking up for the first time since introducing himself. </p><p>“What do you know?” Wanda asked, her tone laced with accusation. </p><p>“Wanda listen I know we didn’t always get along- “ </p><p>“-more like ever get along- “ </p><p>“-ok sure, we didn’t really get along but listen to me. There is nothing we can do for any of them so we should get out while we still can.” </p><p>“Why are you even in town Arnold?” Ralphie asked, “you weren’t at the reunion.” </p><p>Arnold sighed, “if you must know. I’m here only because my parents are getting a divorce and called on their filial lawyer son to help. I didn’t go to the reunion because I didn’t want to see any of you and I’m only here because Phoebe begged, and I needed to get out of my house for an afternoon.” </p><p>“Then where do you get off telling us we can’t save Ms. Frizzle?” Wanda asked, </p><p>“Because I’ve seen this before, I know what’s happening and I’m sorry Carlos, it’s going to get a lot worse. But the rest of us are safe for now. If we leave town and never come back, we can be spared Carlos’s grim fate.” </p><p>“What the hell are you talking about?” Wanda looked like she was about to start throwing punches.</p><p>“Who is Ms. Frizzle?” Carlos asked timidly. Everyone went silent, staring at Carlos. </p><p>“She was our teacher in fifth grade. Do you really not remember any of that?” Ralphie asked, “the bus, the field trips? You guys literally went inside of me.” </p><p>“What the hell are you talking about?” Carlos began to wonder if he was going crazy or if everyone else around him was. </p><p> “If we find the bus maybe we can find her.” Keesha suggested, “Carlos said he got it on the bus. That’s a good first place to start.” </p><p>“Or we could call the police! She might be in danger.” Phoebe said, </p><p>“You know what police do in this town?” Arnold asked, “they do squat. Nothing. They can’t find The Frizz. And if you guys go looking for her count me out.” He stood up and headed towards the front door. </p><p>“Are you really going to give up? After everything she did for us?” D.A. grabbed his arm and Arnold stopped and stared at it, then her. Carlos felt like there was a history there he used to know about，” without her you wouldn’t be a fancy-schmancy lawyer. None of us would be where we are. We can’t let her down now.” </p><p>“It’s not letting her down D.A.” Arnold spoke quietly, only to her, “It’s a suicide mission and I am not going to be a part of it. I’m going home, where frankly, I should have stayed anyways.” </p><p>“Give it up Arnold- “Wanda stood up, but Tim put a hand on her shoulder, </p><p>“Let him go, if he doesn’t want to help then we can’t force him. Sorry to hear about your parents Arnold, good luck.” Arnold took one last look around the room before leaving, Tim turned back to the group, “Carlos where was that bus?”</p>
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